This little poem was not written for quick understanding, but deliberately
reads as a puzzle, inviting thought if it is read. Note: “Ausculta” is the
first word of St. Benedict’s Rule, and it is his “kitchen Latin” for the
standard, “Osculta,” Listen! The German is simple enough, with a reference to
a composition by Heinrich Schütz. I modify Simeon’s words about Israel, drawing
from a psalm, motivated by political reality. Two word-coinages were intended
at the outset. A sense of overlapping of times and speakers is intended. There
is a nod to T.S. Eliot’s “The Song of Simeon,” but probably a stronger borrowing
from his intentional obscurantism to make one think and explore the engendering
experience.
Ausculta, o fili, ausculta,
when the rose blooms, and when it is
still-embudded.
Hear my son Absalom my son
would that I had died for you—my son, my
daughter
and let my cry—these tears—come unto
you.
For here I am, yet not I, an olding man,
seeing from Nebo the promised land
and not yet allowed to enter.
And yet, ever entering and leaving
and entering again into your promised
land.
Now, my Master, let your servant depart in
peace,
in Friede, in Friede fahren, as Schütz
sings,
my feet, one here, one there,
legs full-stretching out between
the hither and the farther shore
When birth is death and death is birth,
when birth is brith, and death is
liberation
here not here in this twilight time
bonding creature to unbounded creator
now and into the age of ages
Ausculta, fellow servant, and depart in
peace,
into the light that has filled your darkened
mind—
into the peace you have tasted this day—
a light to enlighten the Gentiles
and peace upon your people, Israel.
